


Eyes In Winter

by FanficsbyVe



Category: Dark Souls III
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficsbyVe/pseuds/FanficsbyVe
Summary: The Winter Solstice becomes a special one to Eygon and Irina. One-shot.





	Eyes In Winter

**Author's Note:**

> So, tomorrow I'm off for my Christmas vacation with the boyfriend and I won't be back until next year. So I will regale you with a crappy sortof Christmas fic I threw together at 1:00 AM. until then. Enjoy, if possible. Merry Christmas, Happily Holidays, hail the Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever you celebrate. XD
> 
> I doubt this world has a traditional Christmas, but the Winter Solstice seems popular in many cultures, so I went with that. Also, I based Eygon's appearance on that of his voice actor Grahame Fox in his Game of Thrones appearance. Yes, Grahame Fox had a tiny guest rol in Game of Thrones. Google it. :P

_**Carim, the lands of House Bircann.** _

_“You should come out, Irina...”_

_His throat hurt as he said it. Likely because he had said it many times over the past hour or so. He had repeated it so much he was sick of hearing it himself. Still, he did, because he didn’t really see any other choice._

_He’d been outside the door of Irina’s cell for a long time now. So much so that his rear hurt from sitting on the tiles and it made him feel cold all over. The other nuns had already implored him many times to leave, that this was a matter to solve between “sisters”, but he’d simply snarled at them and remained put until they had left him alone. This wasn’t something that could be solved with holy texts. For this, she needed a friend…_

_He reached up to the handle of the door, rattling it. He wasn’t surprised it was still locked. Nor that when he lay his ear against the door, he could still hear sobbing. It was a lot softer than it had been before, no doubt because she was as tired as he was. Even so, it hurt him to hear it. He hated to see her so miserable._

_“Irina, please open the door…”_

_This time, she actually responded. “Eygon… Why are you still here?”_

_She almost sounded angry as she said it, but he knew it was bitterness more than anything else. He couldn’t blame her. He doubted anyone would take it well._

_“Well, I cannot leave you alone right now, can I?”_

_He heard her laugh joylessly. “What is the point? There is nothing you can do. There is nothing I can do. The healer said it will only be a matter of months…”_

_He sighed, yet didn’t give up. “That isn’t very long. But it should give us time to prepare.”_

_He heard how she sniffled and wiped her tears with her sleeve. “Prepare for what?”_

_That was what he was waiting for. “Well, there are still ways to read and get around even without sight. I could find someone to teach you braille. Help you learn to get around the convent. Get used to your other senses. Your life doesn’t yet have to be over just because you can no longer see.”_

_There was a short silence on the other end. He could tell she was thinking for a moment, seemingly weighing every word he said. He then heard her sigh, her voice small and miserable._

_“You’re son of a liege lord. Surely you have better things to do than to help a broken cleric who’s slowly going blind…”_

_He chuckled wryly. “Yes, I probably do. But I’d rather be here with you. I always did since we were children. It’s not very realistic to ask me to stop now…”_

_She didn’t respond and the quiet that took over the convent’s hallways. It gnawed at him and he shifted uncomfortably as his legs got numb. He put his ear back to the door and it was with a heavy heart that he waited._

_At times like these, he wished she had a more fiery personality. That she would scream and curse, get mad at what was happening to her. If you got angry, you at least had the mentality to fight. Surely, fighting against the inevitable was still better than sitting back and doing nothing…_

_Then suddenly, he heard shifting bolts behind the wooden door. A key was scratching at the lock and immediately, he jumped up. He turned to the door and waited, only to soon be met with Irina as she peered through the crack._

_Her face was red and swollen from the crying, her cheeks streaked her tears. Her hands and her lip were trembling and he couldn’t think of a time she looked more pathetic than she did now. He didn’t like seeing her like that. No one would like to see their friend heartbroken._

_Yet at the same time, there was something else in her eyes. Not the look of the broken bird he’d spent the last hour or so trying to coax out of her shell. There was a sense of defeat in her, but not the kind that would leave one wailing or feeling sorry for oneself. Resignation. It was not a pleasant thing, but it was at least a start. What she said next only confirmed it._

_“You are right, Eygon. There is no use to me just sitting here. As much as I just want everything to end…”_

_He could only force a smile and nod. That was unfortunately the truth of it. Even the best healers couldn’t cure eventual blindness, even if he were willing to find and kill the Old Gods himself to do it if it helped. All he could do now was be there for her and help her prepare for the inevitable so it wouldn’t be too great a burden._

_“So, what do you want to do?”_

_Her eyes turned to one of the stained glass windows. She seemed to look beyond the religious depictions, to something he couldn’t see. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, before turning to him._

_“A winter storm is coming. I want to see the snow one last time, before I can no longer…”_

_He simply nodded at that. The request didn’t surprise him. Irina had almost loved winter. As such, it made sense she wanted to cherish its beauty while she still could. It wasn’t very constructive, but he knew it would help ease her mind at least somewhat._

_As such, he held out his hand. She took it as she stepped out of her cell and followed him as they walked through the halls. Eygon ignored the questioning looks of her fellow nuns and clerics as they stared at the two of them, instead leading her to the gardens of the convent. There, he seated her and took his place beside her, allowing him to overlooking the hilly, expansive valley that lay beyond the building._

_For the next couple of hours, they sat there, without saying so much of a word. That was fine with him. There wasn’t anything to say. Only to feel as they prepared for the next dark chapter of her life in which she would have to miss small pleasures like this. They sat on the bench in silence, as the landscape was slowly covered in a thick white blanket, savoring what they knew would be the last time…_

 

**Lordran, the Firelink Shrine.**

Even now, the memory is an unpleasant one to Eygon. Suffering is never pleasant, even if it is in a past long ago. Especially if it was the herald of a much longer period of darkness.

The Morne Knight is not proud of who he became during that time. How he had responded when the elder nun had volunteered Irina to become a Fire Keeper. How he’d lashed out at her when he failed to talk her out of it. How furious he had been when he’d been chosen to escort her to the Firelink shrine as an unwanted cargo to be dropped off. How cruel and vicious he’d been to the woman whom he considered his friend the entire way there.

Even now, he knows it was his own grief that made him act like this. That it was far easier to be angry than to acknowledge that he was mourning. It helped him cope with what he had to do, but it was no excuse. Irina had done nothing to earn his ire and once her task was done, the sadness had come back in full force. Dark and oppressive enough that rather than return to Carim, he took his own life. 

That should have been the end of it, yet fate seemed to have a sense of humor. Here he was, after all. Alive and well, even if the dark resurrection ritual the Fire Keepers used to bring him back was the single worst experience of his life. 

Still, he thinks the experience can’t truly be complained about when it gave him what he has now. He is happy living in Londor, as a member of the Ashen King’s court. It provides him with everything he needs, yet most of all, he is happy to be by Irina’s side once more, protecting her as a cardinal of the Sable Church, and to have mended the bond his fury and pride had previously broken.

He wishes she was here now. He and several others from Londor were sent out here to Lordran. For reconnaissance, unfortunately, not for battle. He was sent here in case they’d run into raiding bands from Carim, but after the failed invasion of the Londor borders that saw a large scale slaughter on their part, they wisely stay out of the Ashen King’s way. Unless one wants to battle the damned giant crows that linger around this long-abandoned, forsaken place, there is no combat to be found. 

The orders from his King and Queen were simple. To find this old place of pilgrimage from an age long past and see if there was anything of value left. Inscriptions, scrolls, reliefs. Anything with historical or monetary value. His new monarchs, the King and his queen Anri, attach great value to the past of nations long forgotten and are eager to supplement their own knowledge with that or surrounding territories. A wise outlook, he thinks, but that doesn’t make the work any less tedious. 

So far, they found some old scrolls and armor, pieces of titanite and several ancients texts carved in stones. Probably fascinating to those who are interested in such things, but he is not one for history lessons. So all he can really do is stand guard while the scholars work. 

He longs to be in Londor again. To find himself back watching over Irina and to be in her arms again. In this city, she became more than his friend and as such, her absence hits him even harder. Especially since the Winter Solstice is coming soon.

He always enjoys the Winter Solstice and the people in Londor make quite the celebration of it. There are festivals, tourneys and shows and on the day itself, a million stands with delicious food line the streets of the capital, all covered in a beautiful layer of snow. It brings warmth to the coldest of hearts and he’d much rather spend it with his lover than with a few men in a ruin in no man’s land. 

Bored, his eyes wander and after a while, he starts exploring. He finds themselves moving in no particular direction, descending down a set of slippery stone stairs, coming down to a small grassy cliff. There is little of interest there, save for what looks like an ancient cell with old, rusted bars.

He suspect this pitiful space used to be where Fire Keepers were kept, perhaps even long before the time their eyes were taken from them. Even so, from the few things Irina told him, placing mutilated women in these roles has always been somewhat of a tradition. A very convenient way to get rid of the unwanted, he supposes, and he can only praise his King for finally starting the Age of Men and making this barbaric practice obsolete.

He peers into the dark, wondering if there is anything there than can hold his attention for a few moments. It’s not very promising. Mostly old, soiled clothes that were likely pristine white at some point but are now gray rags. There are whole heaps of them, mostly rotting and decayed, the only memory of so many women forgotten and unappreciated for their sacrifice.

He is about to look away from this depressing sight again, when something does catch his attention. A small shiny thing, reflecting in the sunlight. Probably just an ancient coin or something similar, yet his boredom in enough to motivate him into taking a closer look.

The heavily rusted bars easily break under his strength and he steps inside the small space. He heads towards where he saw the glittering and without hesitation, he reaches for the object. He brings it close to him, only to then quickly regret his previous willingness.

What he’s staring at, and what is staring back at him, is an eye. An eye that is a clear white orb with a light brown iris and that clearly hasn’t been in a socket for a long time. Even through his gauntlets, he can feel its wet, slimy sensation and he lets out a disgusted grunt.

Eygon knows this isn’t just any kind of eye. It should have been the first thing to have rotted or stolen by crows if it was. This is a Fire Keeper’s eye. The eternal eyes, the ones taken away from the women on the orders of the Old Gods, so they would never see an Age of Man and seek to extinguish the First Flame that gave them power over mankind. 

The fact that the Gods failed at this makes him snort, only for his attention to turn back to the orb. He prepares to drop it back in the pile. After all, this world no longer has any need for Fire Keepers and he doubts anyone would need their eyes either…

Yet it is right there, as that very thought passes his mind and his hand starts to turn, that he stops. Within the blink of an eye his body freezes over. Yet where his body remained in an unmoving state, his mind starts moving with the speed of light.

In his mind, he thinks of Seri. The other Fire Keeper besides Irina who lived to see the End of Fire. He is on good terms with her as well, as she is the closest advisor of their King, and they have talked many times. Including the story of how she became into his service, a blind Fire Keeper no longer. 

Inside his chest, his heart stopped for a moment and a breath hitches in his throat. A strange thought suddenly comes together in the darkest crevices of his brain, worming its way to the forefront. Every part of it seem absolutely insane, anything beyond his normal way of thinking, but it refuses to leave. It only takes less than a minute before it’s all he can think about.

Suddenly, his body can move again and he finds himself clutching the eye, before wrapping it in a cloth and putting it in the satchel on his belt. Then, like a hound trying to dig out a hare, he started to sift through the endless piles of clothes. He pushes them aside carefully but impatiently, eyes wide and looking everywhere, the smell and dreariness of his surroundings forgotten. 

Soon, he is flinging pieces of cloth outside of the cell. He claws at all the rubbish with his fingers, trying his hardest to restrain himself from becoming too rough. Under his breath, he prays to no one in particular, every muscle on edge, desperately hoping this old relic of a place has what he hopes for. 

The Morne Knight practically screams when he finds yet another eye. He holds it close, its squishy texture no longer bothering him. He looks it over to check its condition, but his smile fades somewhat when he looks at the iris and finds it a deep, bright blue. 

For the next hour and a half, he searches. He searches until every part of his body aches and his head hurts. He sifts through every strand of foul-smelling, withering cloth. He checks every part of the cell ten times over, yet for all his diligent work, he cannot find any more Fire Keeper eyes.

He clamps his teeth together in frustration. So close… He was so close… For just an hour or so, he had hope. A stupid, silly hope perhaps that he could change something. If only he could find two of the same blasted eyes. Yet now, that chance is now gone for good. 

And yet…

Still, another thought takes over at that moment. Both of the eyes he has are undamaged and in pristine condition. Their colors are quite beautiful too, even if they do not match. 

Besides, he recalls, some people are born with particular ocular oddities, yet it doesn’t affect their lives at all. In fact, he recalls Irina telling him of a legendary Fire Keeper called the Emerald Herald, who was also known for her unusual eyes. And what things that woman saw…

It is that line of reasoning that lifts his spirits once more. Perhaps, it doesn’t have to be perfect. In the end, all he really needs is function, after all, not form. He smiles.

It’ll have to do. 

So, with that happy thought, he turns around and leaves the dank cell. He mutters a few quiet words of thanks to the women that were here. To the sacrifices they made for humanity and the gift they have given him now. 

The Morne Knight feels strangely light as he goes to join the rest of his party. An strange force almost seems to lift him off the ground, making him more eager than ever to go back home again. It’s hope, he realizes. The kind of thing he became so cynical about all these years. It’s barely even a sliver of hope, but he wants to try. He’s willing to grab even the smallest chance that the crazy plan in his head might work.

 

**Londor, the Hewn Keep**

“You mean, I…”

“That’s right, love. The healer says you’re well enough to go outside.”

Her face beams and so do her mismatched eyes. Still, Eygon finds it doesn’t make her any less beautiful. If anything, seeing her like this makes her the single most gorgeous woman in the world. 

Irina had thought he’d been jesting with her when he came home two months ago and told her she might be able to see again. When he insisted it wasn’t, she had snapped at him for playing such a cruel jest on her and he once again found himself heavily paying for his past transgressions of snide comments. It had taken Seri to corroborate his story by showing her the eyes and the Morne Knight found himself ecstatic when she confirmed it was indeed possible to give a Fire Keeper another one’s eyes. 

In fact, Seri herself had offered to help in the procedure and he found himself grateful for it. Adapting to new eyes was easy enough for an older, stronger Fire Keeper, but it proved more challenging more Irina who never lived the life past a fledgling stage. Initially, all she could see was blurs and trying to see was a task that drained her mentally and physically. At times, she was plagued by searing migraines and she found herself unable to identify objects unless she touched them.

Still, he had only seen this as a small setback and just like he’d cared for her when she was going blind, he cared for her now as she learned to see again. He would be there to help her through every second of the day, slowly reintroducing her to her environment. He would inform her of things around her, help her distinguish them and gradually helped her train her eyes to work more efficiently again.

It wasn’t an easy task and as she very slowly started to reach her milestones, he found himself insecure as well. Whether he eventually could truly give her her sight back and that if he did, she would not abandon him. At times, it really hit him that he wasn’t an overly handsome man, with his shaved head, plain features and short dirt blond beard. After all they’d been through, he wondered if she would cast him aside if she would know better.

Yet, he supposed he had become wiser than before there. Where he previously would have kept those resentful thoughts to himself, he now voiced them. As he helped Irina through her day and recovery, he talked about his fears and doubts, about his worry of losing her. It felt unpleasant to be that vulnerable, yet he was glad he did when Irina laughingly reminded him that love was based on more than looks and that in terms of actions, her affection for him would be hard to rid herself of.

In fact, the whole experience had rather improved their relationship overall. Their dependence on each other had made them closer and the painful honesty helped explore and ease uncertainty. What more, with every day her sight came back, so did the old Irina of his childhood and while he’d been happy with the new one, seeing her win back some of her old joy was irresistible to him. It felt like the old days, except with the benefit of them being older, wiser and with a stronger bond.

Today, he feels, is a new beginning. Right here, a few days before the heart of winter, her new eyes finally do what they should. Her body has not rejected them and she can finally see clearly. It doesn’t even matter to her that these eyes are different colors, not any more than it does to him or their closest friends. There is a happiness on her face that he can’t possibly describe in words and it makes him feel just as elated. 

He reaches out his hand, knowing that she is probably impatiently to finally see the world beyond Londor’s Hewn keep again. “So, where do you want to go? The Winter Solstice is only in a few days…”

Irina stops for a moment to think and while she looks calm, he can see her head is uneasy. There are so many options to her that are equally exciting and he is happy to give her time to make up her mind. After all, they will have plenty of time for it all…

Suddenly, however, she looked back up and smiles. “Perhaps, but the harbingers of winter are already here. Watch the snow with me, Eygon?”

The Morne Knight finds himself swallowing hard, not knowing just when the lump in his throat emerged. The words seem to ego in his mind, taking him through the halls of his memory again. A flood of emotions unwantedly comes to the fore but where he once would have suppressed it, he now accepts the tears he feels forming in his eyes. Of course, he could have known…and he feels it’s the best choice she could make. 

He offers her his arm and she happily accepts, after which the two of them happily start to make their way to the royal gardens. This time, there are no disapproving looks around them. The people here know he’s her lover as well as her protector and are accepting of it. Things really are so much better and he is thankful for all of it every day. 

Once in the gardens, Eygon brushes the snow of a bench in the pavilion and spreads out a warm blanket. Irina delicately sits down on it and he soon joins her. She smiles at him, only to soon turn her attention to the stunning beauty before them. 

The gardens are always beautiful, even to a man like him, but in winter, they have a particularly ethereal atmosphere. Every inch of it is covered in the thick layers of snow and the flowers seem to be made of ice. Some of the servants will even sculpt statues from the material and the decorations they apply to the area make it look like something out of a fairytale. 

Clearly, Irina is equally appreciative. As they quietly sit there, her face wears a permanent expression of awe and for a moment, it looks like she is about to cry. As if she is seeing the single most important thing in the world. She barely even seems to know where to look, as if she wants to drink in every detail. 

He glances at her as they sit there. He’ll probably have to get used to the radically different colors of both her eyes, after so long of looking at gray and later blank ones. Still, he figures that should come easy enough. If she still beds an ordinary-looking man such as him, then surely he can get used to this minor change. Besides, as if he didn’t already love her enough to give her her sight back. 

Right now, he can’t even imagine what she must be feeling. To gaze back into this world that can be so cruel yet also so beautiful at the same time. He couldn’t wait for her to once again do all the things she had so loved. Reading books. Watch plays. Admire the beautiful flowers that filled the royal gardens in the spring. There was a whole world out there for her to become reacquainted with and he was glad that he had helped her in giving her what she needed to do so. 

He jerks for a moment as she suddenly moves closer against him, leaning her warm body into his. Her hand clasps in his, their fingers intertwining. A content feeling comes over him as she leans her head on his shoulder and he finds his face heating up despite the cold when she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“Happy Winter Solstice, Sir Eygon.”

The pure joy in her voice, making her sound so much like the little girl he’d once befriended as a boy, makes everything worth it. All the struggle, all the effort. A life of trials in Carim and walking through the shadow of death. Their old childhood selves are still in there, even if they are tempered by age and experience, and their suffering wasn’t for nothing. They have fought to get what they wanted and now, they can finally have it. He can only smile back as he holds her closer and responds. 

“Happy Winter Solstice, Lady Irina.”


End file.
